Of Dreams and Nightmares
by ChibiQuatre
Summary: yaoi alert! yaoi alert! Trowa/Quatre peeps, like it or leave, no offense ^^ reviews reviews every1! ja!!!


Of Dreams and Nightmares  
by ChibiQuatre(7/10/00)  
  
  
Yet another GW disclaimer: well, do you all REALLY want me to write a disclaimer?! We all know that I don't own GW (though God KNOWS I wish I did!). The GW boyz r'nt mine, never were, never will b. They are owned by their respective creators; Sunrise, There...happy!!! ((oh, and any trouble translating the japanese, I'll b happy to help!))  
  
*A/N: warning! warning!! this fic contains shounen ai (specifically Trowa/Quatre), so if u don't approve of it, pleez leave now. this is ur last warning. i don't appreciate flames, although i DO accept constructive criticism and any other creative ideas! and this is not a lemon okay?! and now that the yaoi-haters r gone, i invite the rest of u all 2 enjoy, and don't 4get 2 rate n review!  
  
  
I woke up to Quatre's squirming.  
  
The blond was wiggling and nuzzling closer to me, still asleep.   
  
I smiled down at him, knowing he wouldn't see me. Quatre was so endearing  
sometimes; even in his dreams he was adorable. He would snuggle up to me,  
providing me warmth. I, in turn, would wrap my arms around him, providing him  
with a sense of security.  
  
I was surprised to find that the little Arabian often had nightmares. Once he was  
awake, he would tell me about them; they all had to do with loved ones dying  
amidst a gory war.  
  
"I couldn't stop it," he told me once. "One by one, we all died, and I couldn't stop  
it." He had looked up at me with such a sadness in his eyes, I had felt the urge  
to comfort him somehow, let him know that everything would be alright. "I had  
watch you die, Trowa," he sobbed into my chest as I gathered him in a warm   
embrace.  
  
That night, I realized what Quatre's greatest fear was: my death. While it made  
him cry to see his friends killed, it absolutely killed him to see his lover die. And  
so that night, I promised that no matter what happened, I would be there for him.  
I wouldn't ever leave without saying goodbye, and I wouldn't die without a fight.  
  
Of course, that was also the night that Quatre awoke to find me staring at him,  
watching him in his sleep. It had been my little secret; I loved watching him and  
could do it at any hour of the night. Sometimes, I stayed in his room until the  
very last moment when the sun was about to rise. Those were the best minutes.  
The sun would slowly flood across his face and bathe him in radiant dawn.  
  
Then I would leave him to wake of his own accord. If he ever caught me in the  
shamed act of invading his privacy, I was sure he wouldn't approve.  
  
But he surprised me by greeting me with a shy and happy smile. It was as if he  
had known all along that I watched him, nightly, while he was sleeping. More  
than that, it was as if he agreed on my staying in his room as he rested.  
  
The nights after that, I had come into his room at the oddest hours of the night to  
find Quatre laying very still, eyes closed but not asleep. As soon as I reached his  
side, he would open his eyes and smile at me. Pretty soon, he came to expect  
that I would come into his room near midnight. He moved over to the other side  
of the large bed. When I came in, he would pat his hand on the blanket and  
invite me in.  
  
It confused me at first, frightened me even. He? Loves me??  
  
But it was true. On one occasion, I had to wake him up on account of his  
nightmare being too horrible to endure. He was thrashing in the blankets, twising  
the sheets in his whitened hands. After that, he had cried against me, wrapping  
his arms around my neck in a tight, frightened choke hold. He kept whispering  
"Ai shiteru" over and over again into my shoulder, and the boy wouldn't even tell  
me what had scared him so much. But I had a pretty good idea.   
  
He was dreaming about my death again.  
  
Other than that, everything was fine. Not that we did anything in bed, really. He  
was content on snuggling, and I just as content as he. I acted as a sort of  
security. His nightmares even let up a little after I started sharing the bed with  
the blond.  
  
And my nightmares started.  
  
I hadn't had nightmares in a long time. When I was little, I had them often,  
almost every night like Quatre. They were terrible dreams, plaguing me with fear  
and torturing me with grief. As I grew, they slowly disappeared, leaving behind a  
sense of emptiness and hollowness that I couldn't fill.  
  
Quatre had finally replenished the void. The blond stood in the hollow spot and  
filled it with such an urge to live; I didn't dare die.  
  
But my nightmares started, soon after Quatre's ended. I dreamed of vaguely the  
same thing: my past, the war, human bloodshed, the death of loved ones. Only  
I'd wake up immediately, much sooner than Quatre would. He was trapped by his  
nightmares; I was not. And when I did awaken, I had the little blond by my side  
always, sleeping comfortably in the crook of my arm.   
  
Nightmares were only lies. The dream was in being awake.  
  
Now, Quatre has just woken me from another of my heart-wrenching nightmares.   
  
What would I do without him?  
  


***  


  
Quatre stood at the door, the light from the moonlit hallway of the Winner  
mansion framing his delicate silhouette in the doorway. He frowned.  
  
Trowa was having a nightmare.  
  
Not too long ago, it had been the blond who was bothered by the apparitions.  
Trowa had put an end to that by staying with him throughout the night. But now?  
Now what could he do?  
  
He knew he tossed and turned in his nightmares. He had never experienced  
anything like it before. They were gruesome, depicting Death and a horrible  
decay. Quatre briefly wondered what the taller pilot dreamt about, but whatever it  
was now, it was not pretty.  
  
He didn't toss and turn like the blond. It was almost impossible to tell when he  
was having a nightmare unless one looked closely. Quatre crawled into bed and  
slid under the covers, staring at his lover's face. Trowa had a frown plastered on  
the normally stoic mask, and his brow was slick with a cold sweat. His eyes were  
squeezed shut in anticipation of pain.  
  
He stared at Trowa worriedly. Since when had he been having nightmares? The  
Arabian usually only dreamt pleasant things, happy things. But Trowa? What  
about him?   
  
Quatre sighed as he placed a warm hand on Trowa's face. Immediately, the  
taller pilot relaxed, unclenching his fists, the tension releasing from his muscles.   
  
Glad that his partner had calmed down, he promptly fell asleep, resting his head  
on Trowa's outstretched arm comforably, like a pillow.  
  


***  


  
Quatre was late coming to bed. He was usually prompt not to miss one of our  
snuggling sessions, but tonight he was nowhere to be found.  
  
I got out of bed and walked to the open window, aware that there was a full  
moon and that the moonlight was refreshingly white and clear.  
  
Just like Quatre's skin.  
  
My mind continued to wander, sifting through my thoughts. I was so caught up in  
my memories I didn't hear Quatre come in.   
  
The door closed shut with a 'click.' I twisted my head around to see Quatre  
looking at me in surprise. "Trowa, what are you doing?" he asked.  
  
I turned back towards the window. "Look at the stars," I commanded gently.   
  
Lit by moonlight, I saw Quatre slowly step up beside me and sigh. "Isn't it  
beautiful, Trowa?" he asked.  
  
"Hai," I nodded, looking at him.   
  
He smiled and turned his eyes towards the sky. "Just look at them. There must  
be billions and billions of stars out there, littering the sky like fairydust."  
  
I laughed quietly. "You really are a romantic, little one."  
  
He laughed at my comment and moved closer to me. I glanced down to see his  
blue eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, staring up at me imploringly. He wanted  
to ask me something. "What is it, Quatre?"  
  
He looked down, suddenly embarrassed that I could read him so well. "Trowa,"  
he began hesitantly. "I -- I know you've been having nightmares."  
  
I was taken aback. I hoped the surprise didn't show on my face. Apparently it  
didn't, because Quatre continued persuasively. "You can't deny it, Trowa. I've  
seen you at night. I know your nightmares are horrible; mine were too."  
  
"What are you getting at, little one?" I asked softly.  
  
"Trowa, please, talk about it. If you talk, maybe it will go away. Like mine.  
Please? For me?" He looked at me with big round eyes.  
  
I turned towards the window. "There's nothing to talk about," I said gruffly. How  
could he know so much? It had to be that Uuchu no Kokoro.  
  
The blond amazed me by persisting. "Trowa," he said sadly. "Please talk about  
it... please."  
  
I looked from the moon to his face and back to the moon again. "I'm not who you  
think I am," I said quietly.   
  
From beside me, Quatre took my hand and held it in his two small ones. "Nani?  
What are you saying, Trowa-kun?"  
  
I stared out the window. "I'm not Trowa Barton." He supressed a gasp and I  
continued. "The real Barton was killed by the assistant to the creator of Gundam  
Heavyarms. It was an accident, an irreversible mistake. At the time, I was a  
mercenary working at that particular hangar. Knowing that the Gundams were  
meant for peace, I stepped forward and volunteered to pilot the Gundam that  
had been meant for another.  
  
"I saw the dead pilot, saw that he probably had a family, loved ones, friends. I  
couldn't let his life go to waste. So when I volunteered, I took up another name; I  
would let this stranger, Trowa Barton, live again."  
  
Quatre squeezed my hand. "But if you're not Trowa, then what is your name?"  
  
I shook my head. "I am Trowa Barton."  
  
Quatre looked down, refusing to accept my answer. I stole a glance at him and  
sighed. How could I not tell him? "But in the past, I was Nanashi."  
  
From the corner of my eyes, I saw his head snap up. "Nanashi?" he echoed.  
"But, but it means -- " his voice trailed off.  
  
"Hai. No Name. My name was No Name...Nanashi." I narrowed my eyes in  
anger. "What an embarrassment, to have no name. A name is the foundation of  
identity. If one has no name, how can one be sure one even exists?"  
  
Quatre looked on sadly. His gaze was frozen on the motionless dunes, soaked  
by pale moonlight. The desert sand easily reflected the metallic light, brightening  
the night with its mirrorlike effects. "An embarrassment -- "  
  
"So I took Trowa Barton's identity and used it as my own. I made it more  
powerful than the real man ever could. The man is a legend." It was true. I had  
used it and made it synonymous with the HeavyArms, Pilot 03...the Gundam.  
"But after a while, too much blood became attacted to the name. So I took a time  
off."  
  
"In the circus?" Quatre questioned.   
  
"Hai. Trowa Barton had to disappear for a while. I found a wandering carnival  
act, and joined for a short while. I figured it was just what I needed: a relaxing  
performance by the master of disguises. It was quite coincidental that I met  
Katherine, my sister." I smiled ruefully. "We're related you know. Through a  
distant bloodline."   
  
Quatre stared at me with large eyes. I put an arm around his shoulders and drew  
him closer, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the star-filled sky. "And for  
that reason, I couldn't get her involved with the war. If I in any way associated  
her with the Gundam, her life would never be the same again. I couldn't disrupt  
her life; she enjoys living as she does. So while I was in the knife-act, I took on  
the role as Nanashi once again, and I left as soon as I could."  
  
"I understand," Quatre commented from the side, wrapping his arms tightly  
around my waist. "You care about her too."  
  
I nodded once. "As far as I can tell, she's my only living family left. Of course I  
care."   
  
Quatre hugged me stingily. "You have me, also," he whispered into my shoulder.  
  
"Little one," I laughed unhappily, "Will I always have you?"  
  
He drew back with a start and looked me straight in the ear. I turned my head to  
the right to meet him eye to eye. "Trowa!" he reproached. His two hands were  
clasped in front of his chest. "Don't say that."  
  
"I'm sorry," I apologized, stepping towards him and embracing him. I could see  
that I really upset him. His eyes were closed in somberness. "Aww, Quatre, it  
won't happen, I promise. I'll protect you."  
  
"Always?" Quatre whimpered, his face half-covered, pressed against my left  
shoulder.  
  
"Always." I resolved whole-heartedly. No doubt about it; the dream was in being  
awake.  
  
Outside, the stars twinkled brightly under the reign of the full desert moon:  
assurance of our promise.  
  
  
~OWARI~  
  
  
how was it? like? sowwie if any 1 of the 2 pilots seems out o' character. i was just tryin 2 show the caring side of either one ^^ well, questions, comments, constructive criticism? (remember...constructive criticism ¹ flames) feel free minna! pleez rate n review!! jaaa!  
  
ChibiQuatre @ tigerlily6c@aol.com 


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